


Bankai Wing

by Mel_and_Christy



Category: Bleach, Gundam Wing
Genre: Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_and_Christy/pseuds/Mel_and_Christy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>500 years have passed since Ichigo saved Rukia and upset Soul Society's status quo... Now five young men are set to rattle it once more.<br/>By Mel and Christy, who do not own either Gundam Wing or Bleach, but love to torment the characters anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Shinigami Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Set in a slightly AU version of Gundam Wing where the war lasts longer and Endless Waltz never happens; it's five hundred years in the future of Bleach and draws from that canon up until the Lost Substitute Shinigami arc, though we've changed a few things. The Visored never rejoined the Thirteen Squads in this fic, though they are on reasonably good terms with their old allies.
> 
>  
> 
> I think it's fair to assume that practically everyone who reads our fic already understands all the Gundam Wing references. :P Therefore, here is a handy-dandy guide to the Bleach characters and references we've included:
> 
>  
> 
> We're using Japanese name order for the Bleach characters, but translating titles instead of having "Soutaichou" and "Taichou" and so on pop up fifty-bazillion times. Bleach fans will note that the captains' lineup is different, due to five hundred years passing and the Visored not returning to their old squads.
> 
> Ukitake Juushirou - Captain of the 1st squad, overall Captain-General of the Thirteen Squads.  
> Kuchiki Rukia - Vice-Captain of the 1st squad, adopted younger sister of Byakuya, good friend of Renji and Ichigo.  
> Soi Fon - Captain of the 2nd squad and leader of the Onmitsukidou.  
> Abarai Renji - Captain of the 5th squad.  
> Rikichi - Vice-Captain of the 5th squad.  
> Zabimaru - Renji's zanpakutou; in his 'inner world', it takes the form of a huge white baboon (Saru) with a snake for a tail (Hebi).  
> Kuchiki Byakuya - Captain of the 6th squad.  
> Komamura Sajin - Captain of the 7th squad, he is an anthropomorphic wolf.  
> Hitsugaya Toushirou - Captain of the 10th squad, he looks like a teenager despite being several hundred years old.  
> Zaraki Kenpachi - Captain of the 11th squad.  
> Kurotsuchi Mayuri - Captain of the 12th squad. SERIOUSLY CREEPY.  
> Kurosaki Ichigo - Captain of the 13th squad.  
> Grimmjow - a very powerful Arrancar, sort-of friends with Ichigo.  
> Shirosaki - Ichigo's 'inner Hollow'; his name is a pun on Ichigo's surname 'Kurosaki' and the fact that he has pure white skin and hair. ('Kuro' = 'black', 'shiro' = 'white')
> 
> Shinigami - Not Duo. :P Spirits who guide ghosts into Soul Society and fight Hollows.  
> Zanpakutou - 'Soul-Cutter Sword'; a Shinigami's sword, part of his/her soul. Zanpakutou have names and separate personalities.  
> Seireitai - The 'Court of Pure Souls'; where Shinigami live in Soul Society.  
> Senkaimon - A dimensional gate between the living world and Soul Society, used by Shinigami.  
> Reiatsu - Spiritual power/pressure.  
> Kidou - 'Demon Arts'; spells, either for attack, defence, or forms of binding.  
> Onmitsukidou - the Secret Tactics Force.  
> Onmitsu - Spies/Ninja.  
> Visored - Shinigami who have gained Hollow powers.  
> Plus - An ordinary Human ghost that hasn't yet crossed into the afterlife. They generally appear as they did at death, with a broken chain dangling from a plate attached to their chest over the heart.  
> Hollow - Plusses that are attacked by other Hollows or didn't pass on into the afterlife soon enough turn into Hollows. They are monsters with white skull-like masks and eat human spirits; the more powerful ones eat other Hollows, or try to prey on Shinigami.  
> Menos - A composite Hollow. When a Hollow gets too strong for human souls to sustain it and starts eating other Hollows, it will be attracted to other cannibal Hollows and they will try to eat each other, blending into a Gillian. If one of the Hollows within a Gillian is strong enough to dominate the others, it can evolve into an Adjuchas.  
> Arrancar - A powerful Hollow (usually an Adjuchas) that has removed part of its mask, becoming more like a Shinigami and gaining power by doing so.

## When Shinigami Meet

 

“--and we have no explanation as yet for why this… phenomenon… keeps occurring,” Kurotsuchi Mayuri finished his report, voice sour as he had to admit ignorance. “Several theories, but no confirmed explanation.”

Captain-General Ukitake sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Thank you. Captain Soi Fon?”

“I regret to report that the Onmitsukidou have discovered nothing obviously useful,” she said crisply. “Agents arriving on-scene after the Hollows have dispersed sometimes pick up traces of unusual reiatsu -- copies of their reports have been despatched to Twelfth Squad offices,” she added as Mayuri’s mouth opened, and he snapped it shut again, expression an interesting mix of eagerness and annoyance. “Agents arriving on-scene **before** the Hollows disperse tend not to survive. It is therefore my intent to send a combined squad--”

“Hell with that,” the captain of the Fifth Squad snorted, red hair bristling even more than usual. “Send some seated officers. Fuck, go yourself! Better yet, send me!”

“Captain Abarai.” Ukitake didn’t raise his voice, but Renji subsided, muttering an apology. “Please let Soi Fon finish.”

She shot a glare in Renji’s direction, then looked pointedly away, ignoring him. “As I was saying; the next time one of these assemblies of Hollows is detected, I intend to send a combined squad to observe, **including** at least two seated officers, with instructions to keep their distance if at all possible. They will attempt to gather intelligence on the Hollows’ strength, behaviour, and objectives without engaging them in combat.”

“Thank you.” The white-haired Captain-General looked down the row of captains, gaze settling on brilliant orange hair. “Captain Kurosaki? Have the Visored answered our request for information yet?”

Kurosaki Ichigo, captain of the Thirteenth Squad and semi-unofficial liaison to the Visored (and numerous other groups that had more-or-less friendly relationships with Seireitai) grimaced, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, but they don’t know much either. They haven’t run into any of these Hollow parties themselves, so all they could suggest was that maybe they’re being drawn to scenes of mass death. That kinda makes sense, I guess, since a lot of the time they show up a couple of days after one of those ‘colony terrorist attacks’ in the living world, but… it’s not consistent, y’know?”

Mayuri snorted. “If it were that simple, we would know it! There’s no correlation between the number of deaths and Hollow appearances, they’ve shown up after attacks that caused only property damage, they’ve shown up independently of **any** attack--”

“Yeah, yeah, we heard you the first time! Don’t pull out the damn graphs again, sheesh!” Ichigo glared Mayuri back into silence, then turned back to Ukitake. “Like the face-paint freak says--”

“Hmph!”

“--it doesn’t match up that way. One more thing, though.” He hesitated, looking uncomfortable. “I got a message from Grimmjow.”

There were murmurs of surprise, and Zaraki Kenpachi laughed. “He’s still alive? Hadn’t heard anything about him for what, a hundred years?”

“About that, yeah.” Ichigo’s mouth twitched up in a wry smile.

Zaraki’s grin bared too many teeth for comfort. “Bet he wants a fight.”

“How **did** you guess? Yeah, he wants a rematch, but for him that’s like talking about the weather. The interesting part was--”

“What, the challenge wasn’t interesting? Yer gettin’ soft.”

“--shaddap. He also said-- Zaraki, shaddap, this is serious!” Ichigo scowled, looking uncharacteristically grim. “He said there’s something in the living world that smells tasty enough to tempt even him out. Don’t ask me what, I sent back a message asking for details but haven’t got a reply yet.”

“…Well,” Ukitake said after a long pause. “That may be the most useful information we’ve obtained yet, and it fits with the reports of ‘unusual reiatsu’. Captain Kurotsuchi, please do your best to analyse whatever readings Captain Soi Fon’s squad members have managed to obtain for you.

“As for everyone else…” He paused again, then went on decisively. “This is a general order. All Shinigami on patrol in the living world are to retreat and request assistance **immediately** upon detecting three or more Hollows in one location. When such a transmission is received, Captain Soi Fon’s reinforced squads will be despatched--”

Renji scowled.

“--accompanied by either Captain Kurosaki or Captain Abarai.”

Renji grinned.

“…Not that I’m complaining, Ukitake-san, but why me?” Ichigo asked, a little uncertainly. “Renji’ll whine like a little bi-- kid if you don’t send him, fair enough…”

“I would like you to have first-hand experience of this reiatsu,” Ukitake said gravely. “Examine it from your… unique perspective.”

The orange-haired shinigami snorted. “Let Shirosaki have a sniff and see if he drools, you mean?”

“Eloquently put. Dismissed.”

* * * * *

“Duo? Have you got a moment?”

“Mmph! Nrr hmph m’rmph-- peh!” Duo’s response became intelligible as he took a screwdriver out of his mouth, wrinkling his nose at the oily taste. “Yes, I have a moment. I even have several minutes if you don’t mind talking to my rear end while I recalibrate this. Wassup?”

“Have you… I mean, lately…” Quatre’s voice was suddenly uncertain, and Duo backed out of the access panel on Deathscythe’s leg to eye him face-to-face.

“Q-bean? Spit it out.”

The blond pilot swallowed, looking around to make sure they were alone, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “Have you seen anything… different… recently?”

“Different how?” Duo asked, matching his volume.

“Not ghosts.” Quatre swallowed again. “Things. Monsters with white masks.”

“…A couple times, yeah,” the long-haired boy admitted, voice dropping even further. “I went the other way in a hurry.”

“Me too!” Quatre laughed breathlessly, sounding a little relieved. “I usually feel them before I get too near, but a couple of times I haven’t been able to double back. They feel **wrong**.”

“Sound wrong, too,” Duo muttered. “I didn’t want to mention it in case I was the only one seeing them, y’know? Maybe we both see ghosts, okay, **they’re** not just in my head, but that doesn’t mean I’m sane all the way,” he added, grinning.

Duo had always seen ghosts. For as long as he could remember, they had been hanging around on the edges of anything he was involved in; quiet, pale-faced people with broken chains dangling from their chests, drifting a few inches above the ground. Nobody else could see them, and he’d learned not to mention them long before the Maxwell Shrine took him in. After he’d met Doctor G he started seeing another, livelier spirit in and around Deathscythe, and just figured that his delusion was expanding into a personification of his Gundam.

Then one day he caught Quatre watching a teenage ghost on the sports field of a school they were attending, and discovered that someone else could see his ‘delusions’.

…Some of them, at least. Quatre couldn’t see Deathscythe.

“Just because I can’t see Deathscythe doesn’t mean he isn’t real,” Quatre said, echoing Duo’s unspoken thoughts. “You’ve seen ghosts all your life, but I only started seeing them a few months ago; maybe I just can’t see him **yet**.”

Duo mock-glared at his friend. “You sure you’re an empath and not a telepath, Q? ’Cause you took the words right outta my head.”

“If I were a telepath, intelligence gathering would be a lot easier,” he sighed. “So. We’re both seeing the white-masked monsters, so they’re real too. Somehow I’m not enormously happy about that.”

“Yeeeah, I wouldn’t really mind if they were hallucinations. Not sure what we can do about ’em if they aren’t…”

Quatre grimaced. “Me neither. Maybe we don’t need to do anything?” he went on, looking hopeful. “The ghosts don’t do any harm.”

A leather-clad arm draped itself around Duo’s neck, and long loose hair tickled his cheek. “The masked jerks do harm all right,” Deathscythe’s deep voice purred in his ear. “You can feel it. They’re **hungry**.”

Duo sighed, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Uh, yeah, Q? Given that you’re willing to believe that ’Scythe might exist? He says the mask-thingies are **not** harmless.”

“Oh, lovely. Does he have any useful advice on what to do about them?”

Duo twisted to eye the tall spirit smirking back at him. “Well?”

Deathscythe shrugged. “Guns won’t work. You need to put your heart into the strike. Other than that, your guess is as good as mine,” he grinned, and faded out of view before Duo could swear at him.

Quatre winced when Duo passed that helpful tidbit on. “I suppose I’d better borrow a couple of knives from Trowa, then. Just in case…”

* * * * *

When the Senkaimon opened, Ichigo had to jerk to a halt to avoid running straight over Renji.

“Well?!” the red-haired shinigami demanded, arms crossed over his tattooed chest. “Didja catch anything?”

“No,” Ichigo growled, stiff-arming him in the shoulder. “Outta the way, Renji, I gotta go report. You might as well come too, I’m gonna have to tell you anyway.”

Renji eyed the crease between Ichigo’s eyebrows as they walked, long practice at judging the younger shinigami’s mood telling him all was not well. “You look pissed,” he said bluntly, and was rather surprised when Ichigo laughed.

“Nah, this is Shirosaki,” he explained, bringing one hand up and rubbing his thumb over the wrinkle. “He’s being an asshole, won’t shut up. I’m just kinda tired. Going to the living world always feels like I’ve got a blanket wrapped around my head or something.”

Renji grunted sympathetically. “Yeah, that seal’s a bitch,” he muttered, punching his friend in the shoulder as they swung into the First Squad’s compound.

“Were you planning to learn to speak like a captain any time soon, Renji? It’s been nearly five hundred years; the rank has to affect you sooner or later,” an acidic female voice interrupted from behind him.

“Same time you learn how to speak like a vice-captain, Rukia!” he grinned, flipping her the bird without looking. “What happened to your high-class Kuchiki manners?”

“I don’t waste them on people who are too low-class to appreciate them,” she sniffed primly, coming level with his shoulder and walking with them towards the main doors.

“What a surprise! Me neither.”

“Ooh, well done! That was nearly witty repartee,” she snickered, cool expression giving way to a smirk. “Captain-General Ukitake is expecting you, Ichigo, and he probably won’t kick out this uninvited freeloader either.”

“Oi!”

“Give it up, Renji,” Ichigo snickered. “You’re never going to live that one down.”

Ukitake Juushirou looked up with a smile as they entered, putting a stack of paperwork aside. “Kurosaki-kun, welcome back. Any news?”

“Yeah, some,” Ichigo told him, sitting down with a sigh. “And I’m glad you’re being informal, Ukitake-san, because it’s probably quicker if I let Shirosaki make this report and he doesn’t do formal.”

“I see,” Ukitake blinked. “He -- er -- drooled, then?”

Ichigo choked on a laugh. “Oh, yeah! If he’d been in full control of our body, I’d have a wet streak all the way down my front.” He ducked his head for a moment, closing his eyes, and when he opened them again they were blazing black and yellow.

“Yeah, well if I’d been in full control of the body we mighta actually **seen** something, ’stead of just smelling nummy treats,” he went on, mouth stretching into a sharp-toothed grin.

Renji and Rukia shifted uncomfortably as Ichigo’s Hollow side came to the fore and his reiatsu shifted, curdling into something dark and dangerous. ‘Shirosaki’ might have mellowed considerably in the centuries since he and Ichigo had come to some sort of agreement, but he still wasn’t a restful presence to share a room with.

Ukitake nodded gravely, seemingly unaffected. “Shirosaki-kun, thank you for your help. Could you describe what you sensed, please?”

“It’s a human,” Shirosaki shrugged. “Not that that’s really a surprise. Powerful, completely untrained -- which just makes it more attractive -- and tasty.” His grin widened, long tongue flicking out to lick his top lip. “I woulda got a better sniff at it, but one of the Hollows waiting for it was fuckin’ stupid--”

“That’s why the Hollows have been gathering like this?” Renji interrupted incredulously. “They’re trying to ambush one human soul?!”

“You wouldn’t be so surprised if you could taste it the way I can,” Shirosaki snorted. “I’m talkin’ serious nummy treat here, rich as a Shinigami but with no defences. This soul’s a fuckin’ **buffet**. Anyway, one of the Hollows didn’t get the memo that ambushes are meant to be sneaky and howled. Nummy treat musta heard it and started goin’ the other way fast, the Hollows started chasin’ it, and King hadda be a hero an’ take ’em out instead’a going after the treat for a better look.” He shrugged, almost pouting. “By the time we’d got ’em all, treat was either out of range or shielding.”

Ukitake frowned, rubbing his chin in thought. “Are we dealing with a living soul, or a Plus?”

Shirosaki hesitated, then shook his head. “Couldn’t tell. I’d say Plus, ’cause you don’t get that kinda strength in the living often and it smelled of death, but… it smelled of life too, somehow.” His grin returned, lopsided and almost wistful. “That’s what makes it so damn attractive. Life and death at the same time, what a Hollow **is** and what it **wants** rolled up into one juicy little package…” He shivered, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t get hungry the way they do, but I really want a taste. Just one lick…”

He shivered again, then straightened up, expression back to his normal homicidal leer. “You got any more questions? ’Cause if not, I want a nap.”

“No, thank you Shirosaki-kun. Your assistance is appreciated.”

* * * * *

Padding quietly through the dawn twilight towards their hidden getaway car, Duo didn’t realise Quatre had stopped until he nearly ran into his back.

“Q? What’s up?” he breathed, voice pitched to carry no further than the blond’s ear.

“Masks,” Quatre breathed back, one hand sliding into his jacket to grasp a knife-hilt. “Feel them?”

“You’re the one with the space-heart, dude,” Duo groused. “I normally hear ’em first… but yeah,” he sighed. “Now that I’m looking for ’em, yeah, they’re there all right. Turn around?”

Quatre hesitated. “What about the car?”

“I didn't leave anything in it that I can’t live without. You?”

“Same.”

“Then we steal a new one. The base commandant’s car looked shiny.”

“And memorable,” Quatre snorted, turning to go back the way they’d come. “I say we take something boring but fast from the carpool.”

\----------

“There’s two of them!”

“Keep your voice down,” one of the Second Squad members hissed. “You won’t get your precious readings if the Hollows hear you!”

The three scientists from Twelfth Squad barely seemed to notice the admonishment, hunching over their portable screens as they recorded everything possible, but they did at least keep their excited discussions down to a whisper.

 _The creep might have demanded we drag somebody from his squad along so they could take ‘proper’ readings, but it’s gonna backfire on him if we don’t get good data ’cause the science geeks haven’t been out in the field in decades,_ Renji thought, not sure whether he was annoyed or amused.

 _=Ambushing an ambush is tricky enough when you know what you’re doing,=_ Zabimaru’s deep baboon-voice agreed in the back of his head.

 _=The only thing **they** could ambush is a microscope,=_ the snake-voice snapped. _=If that.=_

 _=Give them credit, Hebi,=_ the baboon rumbled, amused. _=They could do it. Their microscopes are clamped to the tables, after all.=_

_=Ha!=_

Renji resisted the urge to fidget, feeling reiatsu from the nearby Hollows prickle along his skin. All the Shinigami had their own reiatsu suppressed as far as possible, camouflaged by kidou bindings, but it still wouldn’t take much to give them away.

 _=The nummy treats are going the other way,=_ Hebi announced, sounding bored.

_Oi, don’t you start calling them that! You’re not a fucking Hollow like Shiro-- wait, what?_

“They’ve turned around!” one of the scientists announced in a strangled whisper, twisting to look over his shoulder at Renji. “Captain Abarai, what should we do?”

“Captain Kurotsuchi will kill us if we don’t come back with more data than this,” one of the others muttered, swallowing hard.

 _And with Mayuri-the-freak involved, she’s probably not exaggerating._ Renji grimaced, then made a wide circling gesture with one hand. “We’ll go around the Hollows and try to catch up with the, uh, subjects once we’re clear,” he said softly. “Give them a wide margin,” he added, looking at the leader of the Second Squad personnel and jerking his chin pointedly towards the scientists; the onmitsu nodded back, and more Second Squad members fell in between the scientists and the Hollows, ushering them along.

“One’s much stronger than the other, but they share similar qualities,” the first scientist murmured under his breath, letting himself be guided by a hand on his arm as he concentrated on his screen. “Fascinating…”

Renji and the onmitsu shared a look of complete understanding, brown eyes under tattooed eyebrows meeting steel-grey eyes over a black facemask, and silently agreed to give the Hollows a little more room.

“They’re **fading** ,” the female scientist hissed, tapping frantically at her handheld sensor. “Some sort of stealth ability, or-- I’m losing lock on them!”

“I think I can refine the scan, now that we’ve got at least a partial profile,” the third scientist mumbled, sweat glistening on his forehead as he hammered virtual keys. “Switch to an active mode, tune it to their ki signatures -- plant a tracer once we get closer -- this should do it--” Smiling in triumphant relief, he hit one last key, and his screen flashed as it accepted the new parameters.

…And it **beeped**. One long, loud, piercing tone that carried like a whistle.

\----------

“I don’t think they noticed us,” Quatre whispered, crouched beside a car in the base parking lot as Duo picked the driver’s door open. “They aren’t following, at least.”

“That’s because Shinigami is the god of stealth as well as death,” Duo grinned, fingers making tiny, precise adjustments. “I tiptoe in, I tiptoe out, and I tiptoe the fuck away without anyone noticing a thing. Unless I blow shit up,” he added, tugging at the door handle and smirking as it opened with a soft click. “Awright! Time to--”

Something howled, a long wail of hunger and loss sending chills down their spines.

“Time to leave,” Quatre agreed, diving across to the passenger side.

“Time to leave **fast** ,” Duo said fervently. Abandoning finesse for speed, he demolished the plastic around the steering column with one well-targeted kick and grabbed a handful of wires, yanking some loose and twisting others together with feverish haste.

“ **That’s** not a Mask,” Quatre gulped, twisting in his seat to stare into the night.

Duo’s hands shook and he resisted the urge to cringe. It was like fire on his back, a presence hot as the sun, and though it didn’t feel wrong the way the white-masked things did it didn’t feel friendly either. “You wanna stick around to find out what it is?” he panted, slamming the car door shut as the engine purred to life.

“No!”

“Good, ’cause **I** wasn’t planning to,” he half-laughed, and floored the accelerator.

\----------

“Howl, Zabimaru!”

The first Hollow was bisected in mid-air, halves dissolving into nothingness before they hit the ground, and Renji let his reiatsu flare.

 _=Told ya. Can’t ambush shit,=_ Hebi snickered in the back of his head.

The scientists were cowering and the third one was practically sweating ice, no doubt envisioning having to explain to Mayuri-the-freak that they hadn’t been able to get good data and it was all **his** fault, and Renji took pity on them. “You three, go after the nummy treats,” he snapped, pointing. “You, you, you, you and you, escort them. Everyone else, we’re stopping the Hollows-- what is it **now** , Zabimaru?!”

The snake was hissing like a teakettle, laughing so hard it was choking, and the baboon-voice wasn’t much better. _=You called them nummy treats!=_ it chortled.

“…Oh, shut up.”

\----------

The scientists and their escorts trailed back some time later, and Renji stood up from the rock he’d been sitting on to greet them.

“Manage to catch up to ’em?” he asked, stifling a yawn, and the scientists shook their heads.

“No, Captain Abarai. We did get some more readings, and we’ve confirmed that they’re almost certainly alive, though!” the woman said, looking cautiously optimistic. “We think they stole a car to escape in, and we found another abandoned vehicle with a clear ki signature on it.”

“That’s something, at least,” Renji nodded, and swung Zabimaru up to rest against his shoulder. “Think you got enough to keep your captain happy?”

They glanced at each other, shrugged, and nodded. “Probably, Captain Abarai.”

“All right then!” Renji stretched and closed his eyes, yawning openly this time. “I call this a reasonably successful mission. Hollows located and scanned to within an inch of their unlives; preliminary scans of the nu-- of the subjects obtained; subjects retreated, presumably upon sensing the Hollows; pursuit complicated by the Hollows reacting to the subjects’ movements--” One eye popped open, looked pointedly at the third scientist, swivelled to look at the lead onmitsu, then closed again. “--but detailed readings were still obtained, yay us. Anybody want to add anything?”

“…No, Captain Abarai,” the onmitsu said slowly. “I believe that is an admirably clear and succinct summary of events.”

“Good!” Renji grinned and opened his eyes, twirling Zabimaru. “Let’s get back, make our reports, then go research or poke targets or whatever floats your boat. Me, I want a beer.”

* * * * *

Duo groaned, flopping into the squishy, broken-springed chair that Trowa had hauled back from somewhere to furnish their current bolthole. “Is it my imagination, or are we getting all the field missions at the moment? Wufei’s on that long-term surveillance thing for O, fair enough, but Heero and Trowa could take **some** of these!”

“Heero’s doing prep for something big that Doctor J wants them to coordinate for, I think,” Quatre said tiredly. “They were supposed to start a couple of weeks ago, actually, but they’ve had to reschedule at least three times.”

“So they’re stuck doing ‘hurry up and wait’, huh?” Duo made a face. “That’s what career military are supposed to do, not dashing freedom fighters! Make the OZ grunts do it!”

“I would if I could. Speaking of us getting all the field missions…” Quatre’s voice trailed off as he looked at Duo meaningfully, and the braided pilot groaned again.

“ **Another** one? We just got back! At least tell me I get to stomp shit in Deathscythe!”

“Sadly, no, but you do get to blow things up.”

“Well, that’s something at least. What are you doing?”

“Hacking the base computers from just outside their perimeter while you blow up the aforementioned things,” Quatre smirked, eyes glittering for a moment. “You will not believe the hole in their security I found.”

“I can believe a lot of stupid from OZ. Give,” Duo said, reaching out for Quatre’s laptop.

“…Okay, even for OZ, that’s **special** ,” he snorted a minute later. “What bright spark came up with **that** idea?”

“It was probably a cost-cutting measure,” Quatre pointed out, taking his laptop back. “It does make a certain amount of sense to co-locate a lot of your computerised security infrastructure in one spot.”

“Not when that one spot is a telecommunications node **outside** your perimeter!”

“I said ‘a certain amount’ of sense, not ‘a lot’.” Quatre grinned, then sobered, looking down at his keyboard. “I have to wonder, though…”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll run into those masked things again?”

Duo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Dunno. Hope not,” he admitted.

“They’re showing up all the time now. Were they always there, and we just couldn’t see them? Or--”

“Ugh, that’s a creepy thought!”

“ **Or** ,” Quatre persisted, “is there some reason why they’re turning up now? Are they **chasing** us?”

“Oh, man, you had to come up with something even creepier, didn’t you.” Duo bit his lip, thinking hard. “…Creepy or not, I think I prefer option two,” he said eventually. “If those things are chasing us, specifically, they’re less likely to turn up around the other guys.” Who couldn’t see them, and wouldn’t know anything about it if they needed to **run** , both pilots understood. “And ’Scythe says they’re hungry,” he added, voice dropping to an indistinct mumble.

Quatre looked queasy. “You accuse me of saying creepy stuff, and then you tell me **that**? I wanted to sleep tonight, you know!”

\----------

“Captain Abarai!” Rikichi skidded through the door and crashed to one knee, breathing hard. “Mission!”

“A mission? You mean one of those Hollow parties?” Renji jerked to his feet, then hesitated. “Isn’t it Kurosaki’s turn--?”

“He’s already gone,” Rikichi puffed, waving a folded paper. “There’s two groups this time, fairly close together. Maybe because there’s two nummy treats?”

“Fuckin’ hell, not you too! We are not calling them ‘nummy treats’, okay?!”

“Er.” Eyes wide, Rikichi unfolded the paper and pointed to a paragraph in the middle. “Captain Kurotsuchi is…”

“He **would** ,” Renji snarled, stomping out.

\----------

Quatre’s side of the mission had gone well. Maybe **too** well, he thought; it looked like his invasion of the base computers had gone completely unnoticed, and as a result nobody was chasing him. Normally this would be a **good** thing, but the shouts and gunshots from the other side of the compound were making him feel rather guilty.

“Duo?” he said cautiously, mouth close to his short-range scrambled com. “Would you like a distraction?”

[I **am** a distraction, Q-bean,] a laughing voice replied. [Don’t worry about me; in about thirty seconds the OZzies are gonna have something better to think about. You good to get clear on your own?]

“I am if you are,” Quatre sighed, smiling despite himself. “Are you **sure**?”

[Yup. I can-- wups! Duck!]

***BOOOOOM!***

[Told ya,] Duo said smugly, and Quatre had to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop fussing. See you later.”

Half the base was rubble, burning, or both; emergency vehicles from the nearby town would be arriving soon, and the blond pilot decided that it was time to leave before his concern for Duo got him trapped between the civilians and the soldiers. They’d plotted out tentative escape routes through the local scrub forest, and he headed for the nearest one, picking his way carefully through the undergrowth by the light of the moon.

Five minutes later, he slid to a stop as an unwelcomely familiar feeling crept queasily over him. _Oh, not **again**..._

Clicking his com on, he took a couple of cautious steps backwards, trying to work out how close the white-masked monsters were. “Duo?” he whispered. “Be careful, those **things** are out and about again. …Duo?”

No answer. Duo must be out of range.

 _He can take care of himself,_ Quatre told himself firmly. _He knows to be careful-- well, he knows to watch out, at least,_ he corrected the thought. _Worry about yourself right now. Which way can I go?_

If he cut left through a slightly thicker stand of trees, there was an alternate route on the other side, a lightly-used walking track that curved well out of his way before swinging back around. Most importantly, it would take him well away from the dark and hungry feeling ahead of him.

Decision made, Quatre turned and stepped forwards -- and froze, as he felt predatory eyes on him from somewhere far too close.

\----------

 _=C’mon, King,=_ Shirosaki purred. _=I won’t hurt the nummy treat. Just a lick!=_

 _ **No** ,_ Ichigo thought firmly, watching as the short blond teen whispered into a small walkie-talkie or something similar. _No licking! You’d give the poor guy a heart attack. And did you have to start calling them that? You’ve got Mayuri doing it now!_

_=…=_

_What?_

_=…I’m not sure whether I’m proud or horrified,=_ Shirosaki muttered.

 _I’m going for ‘massively creeped out’, personally._ Shifting his weight on the branch he was perched on, Ichigo glanced sideways at the nearest Twelfth Squad member. The small shinigami had porcupine quills instead of hair and was wrapped awkwardly around a branch, clinging on for dear life, but he was grinning like a loon and chortling under his breath.

“Good scan?” Ichigo murmured.

“Perfect!” the scientist whispered back, waving a multi-pronged antenna at him. “Perfect placement, Captain Kurosaki. Couldn’t be better if we’d sent Treat 2 an engraved invitation!”

Ichigo stared blankly at him for a moment, then turned to watch the teenager again. _I give up. They’re treats. Everyone’s doing it. It’s on official paperwork, even. See what you caused?_

 _=Switching back to ‘proud’ now,=_ his Hollow snickered. _=And they are so very, **very** nummy. You sure about that lick?=_

_Positive. No licking._

_=Fine.=_ Shirosaki sighed, then pushed himself forward, an almost physical pressure behind Ichigo’s eyes. _=At least let me get another good sniff before the buffet walks out of range, hey? If they’ve got all the scans creepazoid wants, I might not get another chance.=_

Ichigo hesitated, then shrugged. _Fair enough. Knock yourself out._ He relaxed and the Hollow pushed forwards again, not far enough to take control or visibly affect him, but far enough to get better access to his senses. Like this, he could get an echo of what the little blond felt like to Shiro, the perfect meal laid out in front of a starving man who couldn’t -- **quite** \-- reach it, and he shivered.

 _=Hrrrrmmmm.=_ The noise Shirosaki made was midway between a growl and a moan, and Ichigo’s eyes widened as the blond human jerked to a stop barely ten feet away from the tree he was standing in.

 _…Shiro?_ he thought tentatively. _I think he heard you._

 _=No way. Can’t have,=_ Shirosaki replied incredulously. _=Okay, maybe I pushed a little hard, he might have felt me a bit, but he’d have to be damn sharp to sense anything through all the kidou you’ve got layered on you, and-- huh. I guess the nummy treat **is** pretty sharp,=_ he went on slowly, _=because I think he **sees** us.=_

\----------

There was a ghost in the tree.

Quatre squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and looked again. The ghost was still there, indistinct around the edges and harder to bring into focus than anything else supernatural he’d seen so far, but feeling far more **real**.

 _So why didn’t I feel him before?_ he thought nervously. _Was he hiding?_ ‘In ambush’, part of his mind supplied helpfully, and he shivered. The ghost didn’t have a mask, but for a few seconds there it had felt like he **should**.

He didn’t have a chain dangling from his chest, either; his feet were planted solidly on the branch instead of drifting above it, and he wasn’t dressed in everyday clothes the way ghosts tended to be. Instead, he was wearing a long white sleeveless open coat over a black outfit that looked archaic and Japanese, in complete contrast to his shock of spiky orange hair. There was something on his back that might be an impossibly huge sword wrapped in a cloth, ridiculous as that seemed, and--

\--and he was staring straight back at Quatre with a surprised expression on his face.

Quatre shivered again. ‘Normal’ ghosts also didn’t usually pay attention to the living, and it certainly didn’t feel this ominous when they did.

There ware dark flickers in other trees, and he resisted the urge to back away as more black-clad ghosts wavered into view. Some were dressed like the orange-haired one, minus the white coat; one seemed to be wearing a **lab** coat; others were wearing form-fitting black clothes like stereotypical movie ninjas, and Quatre decided that he would really like to **stop** seeing new and unusual things every time he turned around thank you very much!

He and the orange-haired ghost might have kept staring at each other for quite a while if the white-masked Things lurking near his first escape route hadn’t picked that moment to rouse, the queasy-painful feeling of their presence swelling into something far more immediately threatening. The ghost looked that way instantly, right hand going up over his shoulder as the white cloth twirled away from, yes, that was **definitely** an immense sword; then he snorted and looked back at Quatre.

“Keep going,” he said, and the feeling of his presence was suddenly a lot friendlier. “We’ve got this.” Then he was gone, flickering out of view too fast to follow.

There were black shadows keeping pace with Quatre in the trees beside the path as he ran. He did his best to ignore them.

\----------

“This was not in the plan,” Duo muttered, running along the narrow, twisting path at breakneck speed -- possibly literally breakneck speed if he tripped on something in the dim light, but slowing down didn’t seem to be a good idea. “Dogs are cheating. They weren’t meant to be chasing me at **all** , but if they’ve got to try it then they should do it themselves, not bring in the damn dogs. I didn’t even know they **had** dogs! Kennels were not listed on the base maps!”

 _=Perhaps their lax attitude towards computer security carries over into their data update policy?=_ Deathscythe suggested, running beside him.

“ **Shit**!” Duo lurched sideways and ricocheted off a tree, stumbling a few steps before getting back in his stride. “When did you show up?! And why are you turning up so much lately?”

 _=I never went away,=_ the spirit said cryptically, effortlessly keeping pace. _=As for why you’re seeing me right now… can’t you feel them yet?=_

“‘Them’? ‘Them’ who? Oh, don’t tell me, let me guess. Which ‘them’ do I really need to not turn up tonight?” Duo sighed. “That ‘them’. Pardon me if I don’t break out the pompoms.”

’Scythe didn’t reply, and Duo slowed to a jog, biting his lip as he concentrated. _Oh yeah, there they are. Great. Now what?_

“Can’t go back,” he muttered, glancing sideways at Deathscythe. Distant barking proved his point better than any number of words. “Going sideways is just going to get me stuck in one of those glorious blackberry tangles that’ve taken over out here, or possibly eaten by kudzu, at which point the dogs will get to snack on whatever the thorns leave behind after they catch up. Not much in the way of options, hey?”

 _=Not really.=_ Deathscythe tilted his head to one side, black hair swinging away from his eye patch, and smiled. _=So?=_

“Masks to the front of me, OZzies to the back, here I am, stuck in the middle with you,” Duo half-sang, grinning. “Straight ahead it is. Got any advice on how I can do that ‘putting my heart into the strike’ thing you were talking about?”

\----------

“Their numbers are increasing,” the lead onmitsu murmured, voice barely carrying to Renji’s ears.

“Yeah,” he muttered back, surveying the collection of Hollows in the bowl-shaped clearing below him. There were already at least twenty assembled there, including one hulking shape half-buried in a muddy spot; Renji eyed that one warily, wishing he could feel its reiatsu better. Between the Hollow’s efforts to hide and his own suppressed energy, he couldn’t get a solid grasp on it, but it felt even more ‘wrong’ than normal.

 _=That one is close to becoming a Menos,=_ Zabimaru’s baboon-voice growled in the back of his mind.

 _…That’s what I thought,_ he agreed, scowling. _Gillian?_

 _=Perhaps. It feels individual enough that it might manage to become an Adjuchas instead,=_ his sword mused.

 _=Take it out first,=_ Hebi hissed. _=Take it out **now**.=_

_The Hollows aren’t what we’re meant to be ambushing here._

_=Oh, so we’re just gonna watch ’em eat the nummy treat? As if!=_

_I didn’t say that--_

_=Good,=_ the baboon-voice rumbled, _=because the treat is on its way here.=_

_I swear, I’m gonna find out their names just so I can stop people calling them that!_

The snake snickered, and Renji rolled his eyes. _Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I’ll do it, you just watch me._

“According to our previously collected data,” the female scientist whispered, “Treat 1 should be within range to sense the Hollows soon. If it follows established behavioural patterns, it will then retreat; are we to pursue, Captain Abarai?”

“Yeah.” Renji nodded to the onmitsu. “Same division of escort and extermination parties as before, and leave the big Hollow to me. We ain’t leaving **that** one to get nastier.”

 _=Damn straight,=_ Hebi muttered.

“Treat 1 has slowed down,” one of the scientists murmured, squinting at his screen. Around the clearing, Shinigami tensed, preparing for action.

“…Treat has sped up again.”

 _Still coming this way?_ Renji’s head snapped up as he tried to peer through the trees toward the oncoming bright reiatsu. _Why? They can’t **not** feel the Hollows now, why head straight for--_

“Gangway! Clear a path! Shinigami comin’ through!”

_\--what?_

A slender form dressed all in black burst out of the trees, running straight for the Hollows… which all turned towards it like sharks scenting blood. The biggest one reared up out of the mud with an obscene squelching noise, tentacles unfurling from beneath it, and bellowed.

“Ohhhh shit,” the running human said in almost cheerful tones. “ **Man** you fuckers are huge; twenty guys with guns and dogs doesn’t seem like such a bad idea now. Too late. Here we go, ’Scythe!”

Renji stood frozen, mouth agape, as the human charged straight into the middle of the Hollows, dodging strikes and insulting their aim. A long plait whipped behind him as he ran -- “Oh you do **not** try to grab the hair, dude!” -- but the voice was very definitely male; he hadn’t been hit yet, Hollows were crashing into each other as they tried to grab him, several had started to fight as they got in each other’s way and the human was making a beeline for the biggest--

 _=We gonna help or not?=_ Hebi asked abruptly, snapping Renji out of his daze.

“Fuck. Escorts stay with the scientists,” he snapped, drawing his blade. “Everyone else, back each other up, don’t get bogged down, and the big one’s mine. Get ’em!”

\----------

“Howl, Zabimaru!”

 _What the-- holy **shit** it’s the whateverthefuckthatwas from the last mission!_ Duo staggered as the fire-hot presence made itself known, Deathscythe vanished with a startled noise, and the momentary distraction was all it took for one of the lunging monsters to land a solid hit.

In a way, it was lucky; a second monster jumping in from the side missed Duo’s head and bit down on the hand that had just slapped him into a tree instead, distracting monster-the-first from following through with a bite of its own. From the perspective of someone who’d just tried to fly through the aforementioned tree shoulders-first, however, it was difficult to properly appreciate it.

“Duo, meet tree,” he muttered, mouth on autopilot as he struggled to focus. “Tree, meet Duo. Play nice… ow.” He’d lost a knife in the collision, but he had spares -- he **always** had spares -- and he reached for the sheath in his boot as he looked up to see a mouth full of teeth descending towards him.

A segmented blade lashed down, chopping the mask and the body behind it into pieces, then snaked back together with a series of metallic noises as each section clicked into place. It was a mean-looking sword, spikes on every segment making it look like it had fangs, and Duo had an excellent view as its wielder stepped protectively in front of him.

“Dude,” he snickered, looking up from his position on the ground. “You look like something out of _Rurouni Kenshin_. At least you aren’t wearing pink, it’d totally clash with your hair, not that that ever stopped Kenshin…”

The red-haired man spun around to face him, eyes wide, displaying an impressive collection of tattoos that seemed to be a stylised representation of his sword’s shape. “You-- you can **see** me?!”

“Well duh,” Duo snorted, starting to lever himself up with a groan. “You’re right there. Plus it feels like I’m gonna get a sunburn just standing next to you,” he added, resisting the urge to squint.

“Uh. Sorry,” the redhead stuttered, still looking flummoxed.

“Hey, given that you just saved my ass I’m not gonna complain,” he shrugged. “Nice sword, by the way.”

“…thanks?”

The guy was **still** staring at Duo like he had two heads, and given that he wasn’t the one dressed like a reject from a shounen manga and holding a magical stretching sword, it was starting to grate on his nerves just a bit. Being Duo, he went on the attack.

“While I realise that I’m devilishly handsome and probably the sexiest thing you’ve seen in years,” he said sarcastically, “could we save the ogling for after all the bitey monsters are dead? --Like that one,” he added hastily, pushing away from the tree and throwing himself sideways as something froglike crashed past the redhead towards him.

The guy with the sword swore, chopping the frog and the tree down together, and Duo had a moment to see what was going on around them. Black-clad figures were everywhere -- more manga rejects, he decided, a mix of ninja and monochrome Shinsengumi -- fighting the mask monsters with an assortment of oddly-shaped swords.

“Sorry,” the guy apologised again, clearing his throat as he turned to scan the melee. “The living generally can’t see us, so it’s a bit of a shock when it happens-- actually, no, it **doesn’t** happen, so ‘shock’ really doesn’t cover it,” he finished in a grumpy voice.

“Seriously? Never happens?”

“Seriously.” The guy eyed him, raised eyebrows making the tattoos on his forehead move, and Duo couldn’t help grinning back.

“Yeah, well Shinigami’s **special** , man.”

For some reason that got another startled look, but Duo had more important things to worry about. “Whoa. Cthulhu at two o’clock,” he pointed out, flipping his knives into a ready position.

\----------

 _Is he calling himself a Shinigami -- no, just Shinigami, no ‘a’?_ Renji wondered, staring at the crazy human. Going up against Hollows with no zanpakutou, just a pair of mundane knives, completely blasé about seeing both Hollows and Shinigami… the kid was nuts!

 _=Never mind that,=_ baboon-Zabimaru interrupted. _=What’s he calling Cthulhu?=_

Renji turned to look. _Ah. That would be the big Hollow with all the tentacles, I’m guessing._

_=So why ‘Cthulhu’?=_

_If he sticks around long enough I’ll ask, okay?_ “You stay back,” he said aloud, flicking Zabimaru to one side and extending the blade in preparation for his first strike.

“Happy to let the man with the bigger weapon go first!” the teenager told him, mock-saluting. He muttered something else, sounding like “I wish I had my scythe,” but Renji was already jumping forwards.

The tentacled Hollow was fast despite its bulk, jerking to one side and only losing the tip of one limb instead of taking the first blow in the centre of its mask, but the strike at least succeeded in focussing its attention on Renji. The other Shinigami present had taken their cue from him and were making sure that their opponents couldn’t break through to threaten the human, so that was one less thing to worry about. He wondered for a moment where the scientists had gotten to, but a quick look over his shoulder soon located them, perched like vultures in a tree near the treat -- the **human** , he corrected himself firmly as Hebi snickered in the back of his mind -- dangling sensors in his direction and chortling together over their readouts. Then the Hollow lashed out at him again, and he had no more attention to spare for anyone else.

 _This thing’s got more tentacles than Matsumoto’s bag of dried squid had last time we went drinking,_ he snorted to himself, carving a few more off as the Hollow’s main bulk dodged again.

 _=It’s a pain fighting it like this,=_ Hebi grumbled. _=Even limited, one Baboon Bone Cannon would take it out.=_

 _You wanna go Bankai with the kid right there? We’d fry him with our reiatsu alone even if he didn’t get splash damage from the beam,_ Renji objected.

 _=…Point,=_ Hebi sniffed. _=Don’t wanna fry the nummy treat; he looks like fun.=_

_Cut that out, will you?!_

_=Why?=_

Zabimaru’s snake-voice sounded genuinely bewildered, and Renji sputtered, next strike going a bit haywire. For a moment he thought it was going to miss completely, but the Hollow shuffled sideways at the wrong moment and lost another tentacle, backing away with a low moan.

 _Saru, you wanna explain it to him?_ Renji asked plaintively, directing the thought at the baboon side of Zabimaru’s personality, and got a deep chuckle back.

_=No.=_

_Figures,_ he sighed, pressing forward after his retreating opponent. _I get no respect._

The Hollow lost two more tentacles, and the snake-voice snickered. _=We’re going to peck this thing to death without even chipping its mask,=_ he muttered. _=Dumb thing isn’t even bright enough to look worried.=_

Something about that seemed off to Renji, and he hesitated, sword clicking back into its shorter configuration. The Hollow stopped retreating, eyeing him with no sign of fear -- no sign of pain, either, despite having lost nearly a quarter of its bulk, now lying around the battlefield in twitching pieces.

 _=…It’s still got just as many tentacles as it started out with,=_ baboon-Zabimaru pointed out uneasily, _=and it’s not bleeding…=_

“Look out!”

The warning came from the human behind him, and Renji spun around with Zabimaru at the ready, just in time to be smacked backwards into the Hollow instead of being thrown into it face-first. The various disconnected tentacles had joined up into a tangled net and leapt back to the main body, trapping him and at least two of the onmitsu, judging by the muffled swearing somewhere to his left. Zabimaru was equally trapped in the stretchy web, and he could feel himself starting to sink deeper into the Hollow’s squishy flesh.

 _Damn thing wasn’t dodging, it was **strategising** ,_ he realised, struggling to get a hand free, _and I don’t think it’s going to be as easy to cut this time…_ He was going to have to go Bankai, he decided, and hope that the human was far enough away to handle the reiatsu overflow.

“Spit ’em out, asshole!”

Or not.

The long-haired teenager was suddenly in his face, moving faster than anything mortal he’d ever seen before, grabbing at the webbing around Renji’s chest with one hand and trying to hack at it with a knife.

“Idiot! Back off, you can’t hurt it like that! Get away before it eats you, moron!”

The boy hesitated for a moment but didn’t run; he blinked, frowned slightly, and then nodded. “Right,” he muttered, licking his lips. “Heart, huh? This better work.”

His reiatsu flared, bright lively surface suddenly augmented by a darker, more serious force, and his knife was surrounded with a purplish-black aura as he brought it down again. The fleshy webbing shrivelled away from the contact like a spiderweb touched by a flame, dropping Renji and the onmitsu on their asses, and the Hollow screeched, flopping clumsily away.

 _= **Now** can we kill it, before it comes up with any **more** stupid Hollow tricks?=_ Hebi snapped. _=If the human can do that he can take a little pressure!=_

 _Ha!_ Renji grinned as he rolled to his feet, and felt Zabimaru’s surprise.

_=Ha what?=_

_You stopped calling him ‘treat’,_ he snickered, and pushed his reiatsu to the limits of the seal restraining it.

“ **Bankai!** Baboon King Zabimaru!”

As it turned out, snake-Zabimaru had been overestimating the Hollow’s strength a little; it only took a couple of bites and one head-butt from the sword’s released form to finish it off, after which Zabimaru settled back into its coiled ready position around Renji, skull rearing above his head and radiating smugness.

“…Nice snake,” the human said, a little wild-eyed but otherwise doing a good job of pretending to be calm.

“He is, isn’t he?” Renji said proudly. Zabimaru rattled its segments, preening a little.

“Definitely impressive,” the human agreed, sticking one finger in his ear and wiggling it around a bit. “Likely to send you deaf if he screams like that all the time--”

_=Oi!=_

_Shaddap. It’s true, isn’t it?_

_=Still! Hmph.=_

“--but way cool even so, and why didn’t you do that before Cthulhu got all rubber-band-y on your ass?”

“Because Zabimaru gets a bit carried away sometimes, and I was worried about frying **your** skinny ass,” Renji told him bluntly.

 _=Oh, sure, blame us,=_ Saru pouted.

“Speaking of motivations, what the hell did you think you were doing, running in like that?”

“Hey, I saved your butt, don’t complain!”

“No, before that,” Renji elaborated, waving the hand that wasn’t holding Zabimaru’s hilt. “Why’d you come charging in right at the start? You had to know the Hollows were here, so why not avoid ’em?”

“Hollows? Is that what they’re called? Huh.” The human looked around at the trashed clearing, now populated only by silently watching onmitsu (and three ecstatic scientists, but they were keeping their transports of delight fairly quiet). “I didn’t really have a choice; I was kind of running away from-- oh. Uh. Yeah. I should probably get back to that. ’Bye!”

“…Well,” Renji said slowly after the human had disappeared back into the trees, dismissing Zabimaru back into its sealed form. “I don’t know what I expected when we started looking for this guy, but that was **not** it.”

“Captain Abarai!” The scientists were now crawling around in the remains of the tree the human had been thrown into, and one of them had pounced triumphantly on a splintered branch end. “We have a blood sample!”

“And hair!” another announced, still nose-down in the debris but waving one hand in the air. “This is wonderful!”

“Good to hear. You just… keep doing your thing, there, and let me know when you’re finished, okay? In the meantime--”

“What the hell was he **doing** here?” a new voice cut in, a little shaky with tension. Bobbing lights were visible through the trees, and something whined.

“It didn’t sound like a Gundam taking off,” someone else said doubtfully, “or explosives. The dogs are going nuts!”

“So he did something as a distraction, and it worked,” a third, harder voice snapped. The speaker stepped out into the clearing and scanned his devastated surroundings, torch and gun tracking together. “Get the dogs past it and they’ll pick up his trail again fast enough!”

The rest of the uniformed squad sidled out after him, looking around nervously at the mess. Several of them were half-dragging reluctant dogs that whined and tried to back away as the Shinigami came into view, but the humans’ eyes passed over the spirits without reacting.

 _Which is a good thing, I guess,_ Renji decided, scratching his chin thoughtfully. _I’m really not ready for humans in general to start seeing us all over the place…_

“Sir?” the leader of the onmitsu squad murmured, stepping up to stand at Renji’s side. “Should we prevent their pursuit?”

“I wanna,” he muttered, “but deliberate interference with oblivious living humans…”

“…is a crime,” the onmitsu finished with a sigh.

Renji grinned evilly as a thought struck him, and the masked shinigami looked sideways at him. “Captain Abarai?”

“Well, we can't do anything, so never mind,” he said innocently, turning his back on the oncoming humans. “Back to our duty!”

“Duty is, of course, paramount,” the onmitsu agreed, looking a little dubious.

“So we should check to see if there are any more Hollows in the vicinity before we return to Seireitai, right?”

“A sensible precaution, Captain Abarai. We can search--”

“Naaah, don’t waste your effort like that,” Renji drawled, feeling his grin widen. “I’ll just have a look.” And he released his reiatsu, letting it blast out into the surrounding area.

The dogs went nuts, breaking loose from their handlers and running yelping into the woods, heading back for home and their safe kennels. The humans swore, scattering to chase the dogs, and the pursuit squad’s cohesion dissolved into chaos.

“Nope,” Renji said thoughtfully, looking back at the onmitsu. “No Hollows nearby.”

“…That’s very good to hear, Captain Abarai,” he said solemnly, and turned away to assemble his squad members in preparation for departure.

 _=Darn,=_ baboon-Zabimaru said thoughtfully.

_What’s wrong?_

_=You didn’t ask him what ‘Cthulhu’ meant.=_

\----------

Later, back in Seireitai, Renji and Ichigo presented their reports to a hastily-convened Captains’ meeting. Not everyone was present -- Kurotsuchi Mayuri, for one, was secluded in his lab poring over the scanner readings and samples brought back by his squad members -- but those that were found their information disquieting to say the least.

“If things are left as they are, sooner or later a Hollow is going to catch them,” Ichigo said grimly. “The one Renji met might have enough control over his reiatsu to get in one or two hits, and the one I saw has really good perceptions, but that won’t save them from what’s after them forever. They’re too strong to go unnoticed, they don’t know how to hide -- if they’re eaten, either some Hollows are going to get a serious power boost, or they’ll Hollowify themselves, at which point they could be a serious problem.”

“Indeed,” the Captain-General sighed. “Captain Kurotsuchi’s initial report states that they have comparable strength to a later-year Academy student, or an inexperienced Shinigami. Even leaving aside our moral imperative to protect the living, allowing them to be Hollowified would be extremely unwise. Suggestions?”

“Bodyguards?” Soi Fon shrugged.

“We don’t have the spare manpower,” Komamura rumbled. “Certainly not if they are to have guards strong enough to defeat the number and level of Hollows being drawn to them. Almost Adjuchas-level, you said, Abarai-kun?”

Renji grimaced. “Yeah, and they’d know they were being watched, too. Ichigo’s one saw him **before** he dropped his kidou.”

“Train ’em to shield themselves,” Zaraki suggested. “Train ’em to fight, too. Ain’t like we don’t got precedent,” he added, grinning at Ichigo.”

“It’s not exactly a **common** precedent,” Ukitake said slowly, “but…”

Kuchiki Byakuya raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Given the upheaval caused last time, I’m reluctant to support that idea.”

“Hey, at least this time it’d be legal and on purpose!” Ichigo grinned at him, then shook his head. “I didn’t exactly have anything better to do at the time, and even so Rukia -- Vice-Captain Kuchiki -- had to argue me into it. From what Renji saw, these guys are fighting a war already. Even if they want to learn, they likely don’t have the time.”

The shortest captain snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re all missing the most obvious option,” he noted, rolling his eyes.

Everyone turned to look at him. “Oh? Would you care to elaborate, Captain Hitsugaya?” Ukitake asked politely.

“They need to hide. Fine.” Hitsugaya shrugged. “Nobody said they have to manage it by themselves.”

* * * * *

Two weeks later, after yet another dual mission, Duo and Quatre made their weary way back to their newest safehouse.

“Think we’re done for a while?” Duo yawned, checking the telltales they’d placed on the door before unlocking it.

“I hope so,” Quatre muttered, uncharacteristically grumpy. “Heero and Trowa are back tomorrow, Wufei should finish his current mission next week, and quite frankly if we don’t get at least a few days off I for one am going to refuse any new missions on grounds of exhaustion!”

“Ooh, mutiny,” Duo grinned. “I’ll be right there beside you with a knife in my teeth, yelling ‘arrr’ in all the appropriate--” He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at a small paper package on the low table in front of the couch, and Quatre nearly ran into his back.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s been in here,” Duo whispered, looking around. “That wasn’t there when we left. Bail out?”

“…Check first. One of the others might be back early.”

“They woulda let us know so’s we wouldn’t accidentally shoot ’em,” Duo muttered, but joined Quatre in a fast check of the other rooms, gun in hand. Search over, they returned to the living room.

“Nobody’s here, and there’s no sign of forced entry anywhere that I could see,” Duo reported, holstering his gun but leaving one hand hovering ready near it.

“Ditto.” Quatre eyed the innocuous-looking paper, folded to approximately the size of a long, thin envelope. “Are we going to see what that is, or just run?”

“Well, I’m curious enough to look,” Duo smirked, and picked it up, holding it at arms’ length as he flipped open the first fold. A moment later, he laughed and relaxed, flopping onto the couch with a relieved sigh. “Phew! False alarm, Quat, no OZ booby traps here.”

“What is it?” Quatre asked, holstering his own gun and moving to join Duo on the couch.

Grinning, the long-haired pilot pointed to a stylised drawing of two swords, one jagged like a saw, the other shaped like a very large butchers’ knife with hardly any hilt. “Tats-man was carrying that sword,” he explained, “so I’m guessing your orange-haired guy’s sword is this one?”

“…We got a letter from **ghosts**?!” he asked incredulously.

“Looks like it! Let’s see what they’ve got to say,” Duo shrugged, unfolding the long piece of paper further.

Something dropped out of one of the folds as he reached a section with writing on it, and Quatre picked them up; two small cloth bags with something hard inside them, tied firmly shut with beaded cords. They tingled in his fingers as he held them, and he frowned, examining them more closely.

“Huh. ‘Carry these, and most Hollows won’t be able to find you’,” Duo read out. “That’s all, no signature, nothing else. Would it have killed them to write more? ‘Hi guys’,” he sing-songed, “‘sorry for nearly giving you a heart attack by showing up like that, it was nice meeting you. We should do dinner some time’?”

“If these actually work,” Quatre breathed, “they could stick one to my forehead with a nail gun and I’d smile and thank them.”

“…Oookay, you have a point,” Duo admitted, dropping the paper onto the table and turning his attention to the objects in Quatre’s hands. “No more looking gift horses in the mouth from me, I promise. --What, they gave us o-mamori? They really are out of a manga or something!”

“You’re the one who reads them all the time,” the blond pilot snorted. “You’d know better than me. They certainly feel like they’re doing **something** ,” he added.

“Hey, I’m willing to give ’em a try. Which one d’you want?”

“This one,” Quatre said without any hesitation, holding up the one that was made from blue-embroidered gold brocade. “It… feels right, even beyond the colouring, and this one ‘feels’ like yours.”

“Purple on black? Stylish,” Duo snickered.

“Emo,” Quatre corrected him sweetly, and dodged a swat.


	2. Lions and Tigers and Hollows, Oh My

## Lions and Tigers and Hollows, Oh My

“Mayuri-sama?”

“What?!” Mayuri snarled, not looking up from his readouts. Captain-General Ukitake had vetoed his plan to clone Treat 1 from the blood samples his scientists had picked up at the scene of his meeting with Abarai -- before he’d even had any progress to hide, too! -- so he was sulking, and not in the mood to entertain random chit-chat from his vice-Captain.

“Regarding the reiatsu strength noted from the two subjects,” Nemu went on, apparently unconcerned (as always). “Although it is not as strong as, for example, Captain Kurosaki exhibited in life--” Mayuri growled, and she went on without a pause. “--I believe it is sufficient to stimulate any latent abilities their colleagues might possess.”

“So what?”

“…perhaps Mayuri-sama might wish observations to be made to either confirm or disprove this hypothesis?”

“Bah!” He waved one hand dismissively. “Fine, whatever, see to it. Not that I expect anything interesting to come from it.”

“Certainly, Mayuri-sama.”

* * * * *

Heero kept his face expressionless with an effort. Something was niggling at him, some threat or clue that his conscious mind was missing, and it was making him **twitch**.

His current surveillance target seemed oblivious. Heero had identified all his public bodyguards as well as the five covert bodyguards that took turns shadowing him, and all of them seemed oblivious to his presence too; they were used to polite, quiet, anonymous teenagers in cadet uniform showing up everywhere they went, and hadn’t noticed that one of them showed up more often than the others. They were distracted by the series of accidental deaths that had happened on base in the last week, anyway.

Heero was distracted by that, too. He’d only caused three of them. Maybe that was what was niggling at him? He was pretty sure the rest had been genuine accidents… but on the other hand, his contributions to the trend had been accepted as genuine too. Maybe somebody else was as good as he was at faking them.

Something caught his attention, and he turned to see--

Nothing.

Mentally working his way through a list of Duo’s favourite swear words behind his expressionless mask, Heero marched off (stamping just a little more than necessary) after his target.

\----------

_Initial report:_

_Although Subject 3 is still incapable of seeing through strong camouflaging kidou, he does appear to sense my presence as well as the presence of minor Hollows on site, possibly attracted by his developing reiatsu. I believe the Hollows to be responsible for several recent deaths in the area. I have thinned their numbers as far as possible without revealing myself, and am observing the remaining specimens to see if Subject 3 is able to perceive them during a direct confrontation. Observation of subjects 4 and 5 has been postponed until after this situation has resolved._

* * * * *

“I can get a good line of fire through here,” Trowa murmured, studying the broad tree-studded park, “and they lock the gates at night, so I won’t have to worry about civilians… Quatre?”

The blond pilot was staring narrow-eyed at a clump of trees surrounding a small pond, some way away from the more populated areas of the park, and didn’t seem to be listening.

“Quatre?”

“Hm? Oh! Uh, sorry Trowa, I just… remembered something. Could you go on ahead? I’ll catch up in a second,” Quatre said, pasting a false smile over a far more serious expression. It might have fooled anyone else -- almost anyone else, Trowa corrected himself, thinking of Quatre’s close friendship with Duo -- but not him, and he felt a chill.

_If Quatre’s so worried he’s forgetting that that won’t work on me… something’s very wrong._ Outwardly, he nodded, hiding his concern behind his own calm mask. “Sure. I’ll check out the terrain down that way,” he said, and strolled onwards.

When he looked back, Quatre was hurrying towards the clump of trees, one hand feeling for a weapon inside his waistcoat. Trowa changed direction to follow him.

\----------

Quatre pushed his way through the bushes into the clear area around the pond, drawing his knives. The pond and the shade from the trees made the ground here permanently damp, muddy and squelching underfoot, and mosquitos whined in the underbrush; it was pretty from a distance, but nobody chose it as a spot to picnic or read.

_Thankfully,_ Quatre told himself grimly, eyeing the two dog-sized Hollows that were turning towards him. They’d been staring at a small group of children when he first caught sight of them, radiating a predatory intent that he couldn’t ignore. _I should be able to take care of them without disturbing anyone else._

They lunged, circling to trap him between them, and he dodged to one side. He was getting used to this, much as he’d prefer not to, and he could **feel** that they were fairly weak. Nasty, feeling like sandpaper and acid against his sixth sense, and of course a terrible threat to any normal person they decided looked tasty, but not a threat to **him** unless something went wrong.

Something went wrong. Slick mud and rotten leaves made treacherous footing at the best of times, which this wasn’t, and his feet skidded out from under him as he darted forward to stab the first Hollow through the centre of its mask. The knife flashed golden as the strike went home, cracking the mask from top to bottom, but the creature thrashed as it died and pushed him even further off balance. He was down on one knee, right-hand knife still stuck in the dissolving Hollow’s skull, left-hand knife completely out of position for a parry, and all he could think as the other Hollow leapt at his face was _Trowa would tell me off if he could see this--_

Another knife spun over his shoulder and smacked into the second Hollow’s flank, flickering faintly green as it hit. The Hollow was knocked off course, thudding to the ground and skidding closer as it thrashed, and Quatre twisted to stab hastily as its teeth gnashed inches away from his leg. It howled one last time as its mask shattered.

Trowa was standing at the edge of the clearing, one hand still extended in a throwing motion, eyes wide.

“…You need to keep one knife clear for defence when you’re fighting multiple opponents,” he said blankly, then blinked. “What was **that**?!”

* * * * *

“Why do I do this, again?” Duo muttered to himself. “I mean, the closest targets for that Hollow were all OZzies. Kill two birds with one stone, let it have them…”

_=As if you could,=_ Deathscythe’s voice said out of nowhere, wryly amused.

“Noooo, of **course** I couldn’t. That would have been **sensible** ,” the pilot grouched. He glanced to one side, but the passenger seat of the car was still empty, Deathscythe not bothering to become visible. “I could have let it nosh on the OZzies and **then** taken it out, but what did I do? I killed it, and the damn OZzies heard me, and then I had to kill them anyway, complete with bite marks slowing me down.”

_=Very ungrateful of them to shoot you.=_

“Think they woulda let me pass if I’d told them I’d just saved their spiritual asses from a creepy invisible ghost monster?”

_=Probably not.=_

“Y’know, when Tats-man and his friend left the o-mamori for me an’ Quatre, I thought we were through with Hollows,” Duo sighed, clinging to the steering wheel and squinting into the gathering dusk. He was trying not to notice how the seat underneath him was beginning to squelch when he moved. “Okay, they don’t come hunting us any more, but we still walk into the fuckers everywhere we go. And then, because we are **idiots** , we have to go and do something about them, and get chewed on.”

_=At least they don’t feel you coming,=_ Deathscythe soothed.

“Pardon me for not feeling like that’s enough to make it all better. I mean, dude, if I’ve got to be a superhero and save people all the time, I’d like some compensation! Is universal respect too much to ask? Groupies? I’d settle for being stinkin’ rich…”

_=I think you need to wear a cape for that. Or at least spandex.=_

“Well, Heero’s set for a career after the war, then. Man of Steel and all that.”

Bantering with the voice in his head, Duo drove on at a careful two miles an hour over the speed limit. (Two miles over would be ignored. Driving on or under the limit when everyone else was speeding made you look like a cautious drunk trying to get home safely, and being pulled over for a sobriety check never went well if you were covered in bloodstains and only presentable from the chest up.)

\----------

Wufei was in the kitchen when the garage door rattled up, ancient opening mechanism squeaking like the Death of Rats in a hamster wheel -- at least, that was how Duo had described it, and now he couldn’t get the image out of his head. He dropped the plate he was washing back into the suds and headed for the hallway, drying his hands.

As he turned the corner towards the internal door that connected to the garage he heard something, muffled and overlaid by the sound of the external door squeaking its way back down. Duo’s voice, in complaining tones, saying something he couldn’t make out. A pause, and then he heard it again.

_\--Duo was on a solo mission,_ he thought suddenly, stopping in mid-stride. An icy lump settled in his stomach and he took a careful, silent step backwards, reaching for his ever-present gun. _That’s a conversational pattern, not the way he sounds when he’s bitching to himself about a mission. Who’s he talking to?_

Quatre and Trowa’s room was closest, and he stepped inside, pulling the door nearly closed and staring out through the remaining crack. Something in the garage thumped and slid, as if someone had bumped into one of the boxes that were stacked along the walls.

“--the hell are you doing this, anyway?” Duo’s voice became clear as the outer door closed and the squeaking and rattling stopped, sounding amused.

_Not that that’s ever an indication of whether he’s in trouble or not,_ Wufei thought wryly. He strained to hear the answer from whoever was with his teammate, but there was nothing. Nothing recognisable as speech, at least; he thought he heard faint, buzzing static that rose and fell for a few seconds.

“That’s not much of an answer. I mean, dude, not to be rude, but you’re **dead**.”

The door swung open, and Duo was framed in the opening, drenched in blood, obviously exhausted, and leaning on… nothing at all.

Wufei’s gun sagged towards the floor as he stared incredulously. Duo’s left arm was raised and positioned as if it were wrapped around someone’s shoulders for support, but there was **nothing** there! His legs were almost dragging behind him, clearly not holding his weight, his whole body drooped down from his invisible prop, and there was still nothing there.

Duo twisted his head to the left, half-scowling, clearly seeing **something** to glare at. “And what the hell does that mean?!”

There was static again, barely audible, and something like heatwaves shimmered for a moment next to Duo as he took a step-- no, was carried towards the kitchen, legs moving but not quite keeping up.

_…I’m going mad,_ Wufei thought calmly as Duo continued past his hiding place, still arguing with his invisible friend. _It’s either that, or Duo is being carried by a ghost, and ghosts don’t exist, so I must be going mad._

\----------

[Slightly earlier…]

Duo sagged onto the steering wheel as the garage door began to descend, shuddering as the complaining motor forced it down its rusty tracks. “Oh, man,” he sighed, eyeing the seemingly insurmountable distance between him and the house entrance. “I might just sit here until ’Fei comes to see what the hell is keeping me.”

_=He might not be in,=_ ’Scythe’s disembodied voice pointed out.

“So I might sit here **longer**.”

_=In which case he’d have the joy of finding you dead from blood loss…=_ “…or I could give you a hand.”

“Say what?” Duo blinked and rolled his head to the side, peering up at the no-longer-invisible spirit standing outside the car.

“Come on,” Deathscythe told him, bending down with one elbow propped on the car roof and making a beckoning motion with his other hand. “Open the door, and I’ll get you into the house. First aid is up to you, though,” he added.

Grumbling and wincing, Duo braced himself and shoved the door open, straining against its weight. “If you can help me into the house -- which I still don’t believe is possible, okay, just so we’re clear -- how come you can’t open the door yourself?”

“Because you’re easier to move than anything else,” the spirit told him, and hauled him out of the car as he yelped in surprise and pain.

“Ow! Jeez, ’Scythe, ever heard of doing things gently?!”

“I can’t hold this level of materialisation for long,” Deathscythe said cheerfully, starting towards the inner door as the outside door neared the end of its track, “so either we do it fast or I end up dropping you on the floor half way. Which would you prefer?”

“Fine, fine. How the hell are you doing this, anyway?” Duo asked, glaring down at his uncooperative legs as if he could intimidate them into supporting him.

“Concentration and focus. And you need to open this door, too.”

“That’s not much of an answer. I mean, dude, not to be rude, but you’re **dead** ,” Duo pointed out, fumbling for a moment before he managed to grip the doorknob.

Deathscythe looked thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure I’m not, actually. At least, I won’t be until you are too.”

“And what the hell does that mean?!”

The spirit answered him almost absent-mindedly, looking ahead towards the kitchen. “Can’t you tell the difference? I’m **yours**.”

Duo fell silent, blinking bemusedly as Deathscythe hauled him along the corridor, around a corner and through the already open door into the kitchen. They barely made it to the table, where the spirit half-dropped him into the chair.

“Sorry,” he murmured, fading out. _=This is as far as I can go.=_

“…Huh,” Duo murmured, blinking again. “Whaddaya mean, you’re ‘mine’? My what?”

No answer.

“Oh, great. Wonderful time for him to buzz off to wherever he goes when he’s not around. Leave me with a bunch of new questions and nobody to ask, why don’t’cha?!” he finished, half shouting.

“Sheesh,” he muttered after a moment, eyeing the pilots’ large medical kit… which was on top of the refrigerator, on the other side of the room. “Coulda put me down over there, at least.”

\----------

Trowa waited to speak until the front door closed behind them. “Do I get that explanation now?”

Quatre winced, walking ahead. “Yes, but I want coffee first. This explanation is going to **need** coffee, possibly with brandy in it, and I don’t even drink. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to wait until Duo gets back? It’ll be much easier with Duo helping.”

“Duo doesn’t usually make explanations easier,” Trowa pointed out, following him. “He makes them more fun, but also extremely confusing most of the time.”

“Yes, well, I’m fairly sure this is all his fault somehow, so-- Duo!” Quatre exclaimed, dropping his bag and sprinting into the kitchen, catching the long-haired pilot just before he faceplanted next to the table. “What happened?!”

“Oh, nothing much,” Duo said muzzily, clearly not focussing properly. “Just some OZzies. Well, OZzies and a Hollow. Actually, technically it was the Hollow and **then** the OZzies, and I drove back here and Deathscythe dragged me in like a cat with a dead rat or something, then he went and vanished the way he does…” He trailed off, mumbling something that sounded like ‘asshole’.

“That’s a bite,” Quatre said in a shocked voice, staring at Duo’s bloody right leg. “Duo you idiot, you let a Hollow get that close?!”

“…That looks like a **human** bite,” Trowa said slowly from the doorway. “Except that it’s about eighteen inches wide.”

“Fuckin’ Hollows,” Duo slurred. “As if th’ screamin’ wasn’t annoying enough…”

“Well, Duo’s back,” Trowa said meaningfully, walking across to get the medical kit. “And I would **really** like an explanation now.”

“So would I,” Wufei said in a shaking voice as he appeared in the other doorway, gun still in hand.

“Fine,” Quatre grunted, heaving Duo up until he could lower him gently onto the table. “On one condition. This goes no further, okay? Because the Doctors really, **really** do not need to know, and I cannot imagine trying to explain it to Heero would go well.”

“’s not like he can see ’em anyway,” Duo agreed, and passed out.

* * * * *

Heero scowled. He’d finally gotten into place to ambush his target, without interference from his assorted bodyguards or base personnel, he had mere minutes before the man would walk into the trap, and he had that **feeling** again. The prickly, crawling feeling along his spine, as if something was staring at him.

He’d been having a lot of those feelings lately. Most didn’t seem threatening; he just felt as if someone was there, on an empty street or in a deserted building. Sometimes he thought he’d just missed hearing something, or nearly seen something out of the corner of his eye. It was irritating, but didn’t seem to affect his mission performance.

(Even if it had, he thought a little guiltily, he probably wouldn’t have reported it to Doctor J. It wasn’t as if he had anything concrete to report, anyway.)

The other type of feelings, though, the ones that did feel threatening, he could at least do something about. He’d done it by accident the first time, but it worked.

Turning around, he looked for the faint haze that always went along with the threatening feelings, and finally located it at the other end of the alley. Drawing himself up, he narrowed his eyes, concentrated, and **glared**.

The ominous feeling seemed to tremble; then it faded, and the haze sank down towards the ground and slid away around the corner.

“Hn,” Heero grunted, and turned back to wait for his target, ignoring the other, fainter feeling of being watched. That one didn’t feel hostile, and he’d never been able to spot a haze associated with it… but if he ever did, he knew what to do about it.

\----------

_Interim report:_

_While Subject 3 is still unable to see Hollows, he appears to be able to localise them, and has begun utilising a low-level reiatsu flare to drive them away. This is an extremely unusual development, indicating development of offensive reiatsu abilities before passive detection abilities, and worthy of further study._

_\- Kurotsuchi Nemu, personal files_


	3. Sally and Hollows and Nemu, Oh My

## Sally and Hollows and Nemu, Oh My

_[NB: Nemu does not know the pilots’ usual numbering. In her notes, Subject 1 is Duo; 2 is Quatre; 3 is Heero; 4 is Wufei; 5 is Trowa.]_

“Well, you’re healing nicely, as usual,” Sally told Duo, re-wrapping the bandages around his torso. “You were ridiculously lucky--”

“Also as usual,” Duo grinned.

“--and the bullet didn’t hit anything important. The leg is going to take longer to heal thanks to the amount of muscle damage you took, it’s going to leave an impressive scar, and are you going to tell me what really happened?”

“Dogs,” he said solemnly. “Really, really big dogs.”

“That is **not** a dog bite.”

“Unless you can come up with a more plausible theory, it’s a dog bite.”

Sally glared at him. He smiled cheerfully back.

“Trust me, Sally,” he said eventually when she didn’t look away. “Just go with the dog bite story. For the sake of your own sanity.”

“I’m going to find out eventually,” she threatened, starting to pack up.

“Not in my lifetime!”

As she tucked the last unused roll of bandages into her bag and swept trimmed ends and used swabs into the bin, Heero leaned in the door. “All done? How is he?”

“Irritatingly uncommunicative,” she grumbled.

The Japanese pilot blinked. “Uncommunicative? Duo? Does he have a fever?”

Sally blinked back at him. “Maybe I should check **you** for a fever; you’re developing a sense of humour.”

“I don’t know whether to cheer him on or groan at his choice of joke,” Duo snickered.

“If my jokes are bad, you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself. Everything I know about humour, I learned from you,” Heero pointed out, smirking.

“He’s got you there.”

“Kill me now,” Duo groaned, flopping back against his pillows with a carefully hidden wince. “He’s using bad jokes as an offensive weapon!”

“We’re Gundam pilots,” Heero said dryly. “Everything is a potential weapon.”

“Says the man with the laser glare. Now buzz off and entertain Sally with your wonderful line in jokes, I wanna nap.”

\----------

_Laser glare. Ha,_ Heero thought a little later, walking out to escort Sally back to her clinic. _It’s some sort of weapon all right, and I’m getting a lot of practice…_

In the week since Duo had been injured -- and he still hadn’t told Heero what had happened, any more than he’d told Sally -- Heero had encountered at least two of the strange hostile shimmers a day. Nobody else reacted to them; none of the civilians on the street seemed to feel or see them; but as soon as he headed out of the safe house to reprovision, patrol, anything, they were there, lurking around corners or hovering half-way up a wall.

The other feeling kept recurring, too. As he reached the car he paused, looking up and sideways at the next building over. Up there on the roof, something was watching him.

For a moment, he thought he saw a dark shimmer of movement.

“--Heero? What’s the matter?” Sally’s voice was sharp with controlled alarm, and when he turned back towards her she had one hand in her bag, on the gun she always carried.

“Nothing,” he said flatly, opening the door. “I was just checking the area.”

\----------

_Observational notes, day eight:_

_While the wards on subjects 1 and 2 are effective at camouflaging their reiatsu, it appears that prolonged residence in one spot allows faint traces to seep out into their immediate surroundings. This has attracted a larger than normal population of minor Hollows to the area; due to its high population density and the low socio-economic status of many residents, leading to a lack of concern should persons go missing, the local Hollow population was already substantial._

_Subject 1 is still restricted to the shared dwelling by his injuries. Subjects 2 and 5 frequently patrol the local area together, actively tracking and confronting Hollows; subject 2 appears to be teaching subject 5 basic anti-Hollow techniques, using various small knives as their primary weapons. Subject 4 leaves the dwelling less frequently, possibly acting as subject 1’s main caretaker, and seems to be unable to clearly locate the resident Hollows; on the occasions when he encounters one at close range, he retreats or evades rather than confronting it._

_Subject 3 is still the main focus of my observations. He continues to use a low-level reiatsu flare to drive Hollows away, and is developing its strength and focus with notable speed. He has yet to encounter a Hollow powerful enough to regard this as an inducement to attack rather than a reason to retreat; however, my readings indicate that at least two Hollows at this power level have recently arrived in the area. I shall continue to observe._

_\- Kurotsuchi Nemu, personal files._

\----------

_Something’s following me._

On his way back from dropping Sally off at her clinic, Heero kept checking his mirrors and glancing up at the buildings he passed. He was driving through a bad neighbourhood, though it was better than where the pilots had established their current safe house. The buildings were getting dingier, old paint flaking off their facades, broken windows boarded over here and there, fewer people on the sidewalks… and something was watching him. Something hostile.

_Some things, plural,_ he thought, turning down a side alley. His first instinct was to lead pursuit away from the other pilots; the second was to get away from witnesses, and he turned again, heading away from the safe house.

Dust puffed up in front of the car as something landed hard, a flickering shimmer like heat waves or Deathscythe’s visual cloak outlining a bulky shape. Heero stamped on the brake pedal, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he controlled a skid, and wrenched the car into reverse, only to have to brake again as another barely-visible **thing** thudded to the ground behind him, cracking the pavement under its weight. He could feel their attention on him, gloating, purposeful.

Something made him look back at the first barely-there shape. The shimmer moved, drawing upwards -- an arm? there was a blurred area at the end that might be a fist -- and Heero dove out of the car, rolling to his feet and backing away as he drew his gun. The maybe-fist slammed down between him and the car, and the two shimmers lurched slowly after him.

He lifted his gun to point at one of the indistinct forms, but didn’t fire. _Too loud. Too many windows. Too many places for witnesses to come out of… and I might not need to…_ There was a faint tickle of unease at the back of his mind, and he hesitated for a moment. These things, whatever they were, felt worse than usual. Darker. Denser, perhaps. _Stronger? Will it work?_

Heero backed up further, heading for an alleyway between two buildings, breathing a little easier as he stepped into the narrow space. He had enough room to manoeuvre, but the shimmer-things would be cramped, only able to reach him one at a time -- and they might not follow him at all. He took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes, concentrated, and **glared**.

It was easier every time he did it, like clenching an unfamiliar set of muscles. He felt whatever it was happen, some part of him reaching out and pushing at the shimmers, warning them. _Stop. Go away. This is not prey._

They paused, and for a moment he thought it had worked.

\----------

Nemu’s tracker beeped, updating the map with the latest location information for the several Hollows it was registering. A few of the weakest ones had vanished, slipping back into Hueco Mundo; probably the ones that had seen or sensed her presence, and been self-aware enough to realise their luck. She wasn’t hunting. She had, however, made a note to recommend extra patrols in the area in future. Whichever squad was assigned to this patrol, they weren’t doing the job properly.

The tracker beeped again, registering a flare of reiatsu, and Nemu blinked as she felt it herself. Fairly close, a little clumsy, using determination and willpower to make up for a lack of technique, very familiar-- and answered by a chilling howl.

There was a second howl as she flash-stepped across rooftops towards the fading reiatsu signature, and then the sound of gunshots. Subject 3 was backing down an alley away from two mid-level Hollows, firing precise, spaced shots, eyes narrowed in concentration. The bullets were having no effect; as Nemu arrived, Subject 3 changed magazines and continued to fire without breaking his rhythm. The sense of his reiatsu didn’t change, unwavering, showing no fear or panic even as one of the Hollows laughed in a gravely voice and clambered up the wall, jumping from crumbling bricks to a rusted fire escape to get above him; he merely continued backing up and changed targets, shell casings tinkling to the ground around his feet.

Nemu dropped from the building parapet, landing with both feet on the back of the grounded Hollow’s skull and driving its head into the pavement hard enough to crack its mask. It collapsed, keening in pain, and she leapt for the fire escape, swinging around the railing to kick the second Hollow in the side. She hit it harder than she’d intended to, snapping it across the alleyway hard enough to leave a crater in the wall where it hit, and followed through with a bare-handed strike that shattered its mask in midair. It dissipated, streaming away into nothingness before hitting the ground.

She made a mental note that she seemed to have developed an emotional investment in Subject 3’s well-being, leading to slight misjudgements during combat. It would have to be allowed for in future.

Nemu landed lightly on the stained pavement, turned to check Subject 3’s physical condition, and was confronted by a blue-eyed glare backed up with threatening reiatsu pressure and a snub-nosed automatic pointed unwaveringly at her forehead.

“Who are you?” he snapped, squinting as if he couldn’t properly focus. “ **What** are you? And what was **that**?”

Considering the strength of the sealing kidou hiding her own reiatsu, it was surprising that he could see her at all. Nemu folded her hands in front of her waist in a non-threatening posture, and released the kidou; the subject blinked as she (presumably) came into full view, but didn’t relax.

“Kurotsuchi Nemu,” she said politely. “Vice-Captain of the Twelfth Squad of the Gotei Thirteen. I am a Shinigami. That was a Hollow.”

He blinked again, eyes widening for a moment, and she felt his reiatsu waver slightly -- in surprise, perhaps? -- before firming again. His mouth opened as if to speak, then snapped shut, and the gun jerked to one side and fired over her shoulder. Behind her, the first Hollow sagged back to the ground, mask cracking the rest of the way through and falling away.

_It appears that he can focus his energy into a bullet to deliver an effective ranged strike,_ Nemu noted, hand twitching towards the tiny voice recorder tucked into her obi. _An entirely new technique, developed during this fight. **Fascinating**._

The subject hesitated again, then tucked the gun away beneath his clothing. “I don’t know what that means,” he said bluntly. “What’s a Hollow? What ‘squads’ are you talking about? And what are you using ‘Shinigami’ to mean? I know it translates as ‘Death God’, but that’s…” he paused, eyeing her. “Perhaps unlikely.”

It was Nemu’s turn to hesitate. If she offered a data exchange, she could advance her personal research project immensely, but… “Disseminating information to ordinary mortals is a serious crime according to our laws,” she said regretfully. “Goodbye.”

“Wait!” He put out one hand to stop her, not quite making contact. “What do you mean, ‘ordinary’ mortals? What’s the definition?”

“Those who are unaware of the existence of Soul Society,” she told him. “Unaware of us.”

“Well, I’m aware **now** ,” he pointed out. “So, technically…” He trailed off, one eyebrow lifting as he waited for her to continue the thought herself.

“…you do not precisely qualify as ‘ordinary’,” she agreed, smiling faintly when he snorted.

“I haven’t qualified as ordinary since I was about two,” he muttered, finally relaxing a little. “Heero Yui,” he added, nodding brusquely but politely. “Pleased to meet you, I guess… and thanks.”

\----------

“You’re late,” Wufei pointed out as Heero let himself in the front door.

“Ran into a delay on the way back,” the Japanese pilot muttered, seeming slightly distracted.

“Anything we need to be concerned about?”

Heero paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shook his head. “…No. No, I’ve got it under control, I think.”

Wufei’s eyebrows rose. “What’s **that** supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”


	4. Renji and Duo and Guns, Oh My

“Captain Abarai?”

“Yeah?” Renji glanced towards the voice, belatedly recognised who was speaking to him, and jerked his body around to bow. “Uh, I mean yes, sir?”

Captain-General Ukitake smiled cheerfully at him. “Would you mind making a small excursion to the living world for me?”

“Not a problem, sir!” Renji mentally assigned all the paperwork he knew was waiting on his desk to his lieutenant, and grinned happily. “When, where, and what do you want me to do?”

“‘When’ is now,” Ukitake informed him, “or at least today. ‘Where’ is a particular patrol zone that has been experiencing seriously increased numbers of Hollow incursions, with no cause discovered as yet… and an unfortunate lack of response from its assigned squad.”

“Ouch.”

“Indeed. As for ‘what’, I would like you to visit the area, see if you can determine any clues as to the cause of the increased incursions, and evaluate the response to any new Hollows that arrive while you are there. I realise this would normally be the duty of the Onmitsukidou, but some of the members of the squad under investigation are related to members of the Onmitsukidou, and there is the possibility that previous, more official investigations have discovered nothing because they have received advance notice.”

“…Ouch,” Renji repeated, blinking. “Wow. Well, that explains why you came out to the practice ground to ask me instead of calling me to your office.”

“Exactly!” Ukitake’s smile widened and he drew his zanpakutou. “In the interests of maintaining our camouflage, would you like to spar?”

* * * * *

“Yo, Nemu.”

“Captain Abarai,” Nemu replied, keeping her eyes on the street below until Subject 3 -- Heero -- passed out of sight around a corner.

“Whatcha doing?” Renji asked, coming to stand next to her on the building’s parapet.

“Observing.” One hand tucked the small voice recorder she’d been making her notes on away in her obi.

One eyebrow quirked upwards as he looked sideways at her, half-smiling. “You’re doing the thing again.”

The statement didn’t seem to require an answer; Nemu folded her hands at her waist and looked back at him silently. After a few seconds, he sighed.

“Okay, that was when you were supposed to say ‘What thing, Captain Abarai?’”

“I beg your pardon. What thing, Captain Abarai?”

“There ya go. The thing where you give perfectly true answers that don’t actually include any information,” he told her, grinning. “The thing you do to your Captain a lot, when you don’t think he needs to know something. Why are you doing it to me?”

Nemu blinked. “I do apologise, Captain Abarai. I assure you, I was not deliberately doing ‘the thing’.”

“And that’s the other thing!” he huffed, folding his arms over his chest.

She watched him, blank-faced, until he sighed again, rolling his eyes. A barely perceptible smile curved her lips as she replied, “What other thing, Captain Abarai?”

“The thing where you totally change the subject instead of answering a direct question. Which was, if I remember right, ‘whatcha doing?’ And if the answer is still ‘observing’, the next questions are, ‘observing what?’ and ‘why?’”

“I am observing the close companions of Subjects 1 and 2, previously designated Treats 1 and 2, in an attempt to determine whether their exposure to strong reiatsu will trigger or accelerate the development of their own abilities. My hypothesis is tentatively confirmed. Continued observation is needed to determine in what ways their abilities are developing.”

Renji blinked, processing that, and then broke out into a grin. “Oh man, you mean they’ve got Ichigo Syndrome?”

“Put colloquially… yes.”

“Ha! Well, so long as nobody sticks a zanpakutou through their chests, we should be safe from invasion. --You’re not planning to do that, are you?”

“Not at this point in time, no.”

“Oh, good. It took long enough to rebuild last time, what with the number of buildings he managed to take down in Seireitei before he joined the squads for real… waitaminute. Whaddaya mean, ‘not at this point in time’?!”

“It was a joke, Captain Abarai.”

“That’s almost scarier than the thought of a second Ichigo,” he muttered, then grinned. “Oh well. Anyway, if you’re here to observe them and their friends, that explains part of why I got called in. Assuming they’re the reason for the high numbers of Hollows in the area, that is. I thought this sounded familiar.”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Huh. D’you think it’s their friends attracting the Hollows this time, or do we need to come up with better wards for those two? Seeing as how the whole point of giving them wards was so that they **wouldn’t** attract attention.”

Nemu cocked her head slightly to one side, considering. “I believe it to be due to a combination of circumstances. First, subjects 1 and 2 are almost certainly still developing in power, and thus may be growing beyond their wards’ ability to suppress and camouflage their reiatsu. Second, subjects 3 to 5 are indeed developing their own reiatsu, and will begin attracting notice soon if they have not already.”

“Gotcha,” Renji muttered, squinting down at the street. “I’ll talk to the Kidou Corps, get them started on making stronger--”

“Third,” Nemu continued, going on as if he hadn’t interrupted, “all five subjects have remained in one place in the three weeks since Subject 1’s injury, and the resulting accumulation of reiatsu in the environment has--”

“--what?! Injury?!” Renji yelped, spinning to stare at her again. “Subject 1 -- that’s the one with the hair, right? My one?”

“--yes, Captain Abarai. Subject 1,” she paused, “the one with the -- ah -- hair, was injured just over three weeks ago. I regret that I am unable to report on the precise nature of his injury, but it was serious enough for medical personnel to be called in. Subject 1 has not left the building since they moved here immediately afterwards. I hypothesise that he--”

Renji was gone.

“--is on bed rest,” Nemu finished, following the black flicker left by him flash-stepping across to the other side of the road with her gaze. After a moment, she pulled her voice recorder out again.

\- - - - -

Now that Renji was looking for it, he could feel a vague patina of familiar reiatsu smudged over the general area, like fingerprints on glass.

_Given what Shirosaki said about how those two smell to Hollows, that’s gotta be like pouring gravy over half a dozen city blocks,_ he thought, landing on the elderly apartment building’s parapet and peering down into the alley beside it. _There isn’t a clear source for them to concentrate on and ambush, so we aren’t getting mobs of 'em like the first time these guys showed up, but they’re still poking around the area and hoping…_

The wards given to the ‘treats’ camouflaged their owners’ precise location from Shinigami as well as Hollows, but they had their own reiatsu signature… and right now both of them were in the same area of the building, about three floors down.

_I can just take a look,_ Renji told himself, eyeing the window closest to where ‘his’ human’s ward was resting, humming quietly to itself with the rhythms and resonances of a body at rest. _That feels like he’s asleep. The other one isn’t close enough to be in the same room, I’ve got the stupid strong kidou seal keeping my own energy under wraps, and if one of the other three is there… well, they’re not as strong as my guy or Ichigo’s blond kid. No way they’d be able to see me yet._

_So I can sneak in, make sure he’s okay, and sneak out. Nobody the wiser. No harm, no foul._

\- - - - -

Duo snapped from a light doze into full awareness as the catch on the window unlocked with a nearly-inaudible _*snick*_. He didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes, and kept his breathing perfectly steady as the window slid upwards; the window itself made no noise ( _And how is whoever-the-fuck-that-is managing that, when the damn thing sticks every half an inch and scrapes paint off the runners every time Quatre opens it for the nonexistent fresh air?_ ) but the quality of the distant traffic noises changed, no longer muffled by the glass. The sounds changed again, blocked as a body climbed through, and there was the faintest possible whisper of cloth on cloth as the intruder stealthily approached the bed--

The red-haired ghost went cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the gun muzzle tapping him right between his tattooed eyebrows, and Duo groaned. “Fuck **sake** , dude, just let me know you’re coming for a visit, will ya? What are you trying to do, make me pull my stitches out?” He settled back onto his pillows considerably slower than he’d moved to counter the possible threat, wincing as assorted injuries protested, and slid the hideout gun back under the blankets.

“Uh. Sorry about that,” the ghost said, eyeing him warily. “I, uh, thought you were asleep.”

“I **was** ,” Duo muttered. “Did you really expect me to stay asleep through someone sneaking into the room? --Hold that thought,” he interrupted himself, holding up one finger and turning his head towards the door. “False alarm, Q! It’s a friendly!”

There was the quiet metallic click of a safety being engaged just outside the door, and then it opened to reveal Quatre, gun in one hand pointing at the floor. “I thought it felt familiar,” he said, looking the embarrassed ghost over. “‘Tats-man’, I presume? And may I say it’s a good thing that Heero just went out shopping, or else **he** would have been the one responding to the window alarm?”

Duo snickered, shaking his head. “Oooh, talk about a narrow escape! I’d say good timing, but seriously dude, unannounced visits, not good around here. Also, that was a totally shitty thing you did, breaking into our safe house to leave a frickin’ anonymous note instead of showing up in person to, I dunno, maybe say thank-you for me saving your ectoplasmic ass?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who ran like a rabbit instead of hanging around for a conversation,” the ghost objected. “Also, we have rules about not interfering with normal humans, so I wasn’t allowed to do anything else.”

“Oh, like we’re normal,” Duo muttered, rolling his eyes. Re-holstering his gun, Quatre quietly sidled back out of the room and headed towards the kitchen.

The ghost apparently decided to ignore Duo’s comment, making an expressive gesture that took in the bed, the crutches leaning against the wall, and the general sickroom atmosphere. “Nice to see you again, by the way. I’d say ‘under better circumstances’, but what the fuck is all this?”

“I hadda go and be a frickin’ white knight -- against my better judgement, I gotta say -- and save a couple of OZzies from a Hollow that was lining up to munch on them. It munched me a bit, and then the OZzies got all shooty, so they ended up dead anyway. Shoulda just let the stupid thing have them.”

“You got a Hollow bite? How bad?”

Duo shrugged. “Hurts like a bitch, but it didn’t hit anything vital,” he said, gesturing towards his leg.

“Mind if I have a look? They can be nasty. I may not be great with healing kidou, but if it needs something more I can haul someone from Fourth squad down here.”

“Okay, but if you’re going to see me in all my boxers-clad glory I want some introductions first,” Duo grinned, sticking out his hand. “Hi. I’m Duo Maxwell, Gundam pilot and all-around awesome person. Who the hell are you?”

Renji grinned back, shaking hands. “Hi. I’m Abarai Renji, Captain of the Fifth Squad of the Gotei Thirteen, Shinigami and all-around awesome ectoplasmic guy. Nice to meet you.”

“Quatre Winner,” the teenager in question said as he pushed the door aside with his shoulder, both hands occupied with a tray. “Gundam pilot, strategist, and possibly the only person who is keeping in mind the fact that barring unforeseen circumstances, Heero will be back in twenty-five minutes precisely. Until then, I have tea and biscuits, and so long as you give me the cups back five minutes before he returns I promise to wash up the evidence.”

* * * * *

“Captain-General?”

Ukitake looked up from his paperwork and smiled at the spiky-haired Captain peering around his door. “Captain Abarai, welcome back! Do sit down and have some tea.”

“Just a small cup if you don’t mind, sir. I just had some half an hour ago.” Renji settled down on the opposite side of the table and grinned, laying his sword beside him. “Really **good** tea, too, and the biscuits were pretty awesome as well.”

“Do I want to know?” Ukitake asked, raising one snow-white eyebrow as he poured.

“Uh… that depends. Do we still consider the Treats to be ‘normal humans'? ’Cause if we do, I kinda need a pardon for breaking the rule about not revealing ourselves to ordinary mortals.”

“‘The Treats’? --Oh.” The eyebrow went up higher. “No; given that they can **see** us, I think that rule doesn’t apply. I gather they were involved?”

“Yup.” Renji picked up his cup and sipped, sighing in appreciation. “In both halves of the problem. I need to get them better wards, because they’re leaking enough reiatsu to make their location smell really interesting to Hollows if they stay in one place for more than a couple of weeks, though it’s not as urgent as you might think because they usually **don’t** stay in one place for more than one.”

“Noted. And the second half of the problem?”

“The assigned squad has been getting really slack about tracking Hollows, since at least half the time they get there just as their target vanishes… because the Treats have started teaching two of their friends to hunt. Also, Vice-Captain Kurotsuchi has been staying in the area ‘observing’ them, so she might’ve been taking out targets on the side. I forgot to ask.”

Ukitake smiled as he picked up his own cup. “‘Observing’?”

“I think she’s taken them on as a private project. She was doing that thing she does when she’s avoiding actually reporting to her Captain.”

“The completely uninformative yet truthful answers?”

“And the subject changes.” Renji sipped his tea again, frowning slightly. “He **does** know she does that, right?”

“Oh yes,” Ukitake assured him. “I’m fairly sure he lets her get away with it because he trusts her to have a better sense of priorities than he does. If she doesn’t tell him about interesting-but-unadvisable research subjects, he isn’t compelled to investigate them, and doesn’t get into trouble. Or dissolve half of Seireitai.”

“…Ooh. Let’s not mess with what works, then.”


End file.
